Mario Vargas Llosa’s novel “The Bad Girl” is a masterpiece. Period. It is not only a book on unfulfilled love but much more than that. He tells us of the third world diaspora where people have lost their identity to a great extent. They move around the world in search of a better life than what is afforded to them in their own countries but are unable to find it. They lay in the comfort of a better salary, no doubt, but are nameless figures that belong to no country in particular. And this is where the novel triumphs, scoring well above its primary theme of unrequited love.
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